Missing Believed Dead by Chris Longmuir Page A

rubbing them so the inflamed skin reddened even more. ‘You’ve got to find her.’
    ‘Proof?’
    She nodded and handed him a green envelope. ‘It’s a birthday card,’ she said, ‘from Jade.’
    Bill studied the card, then carefully placed it back into the green envelope.
    ‘You’re sure it’s from her?’
    ‘Emma thinks it’s someone playing a sick joke on me. But I know it’s from Jade.’
    Diane’s misery seemed to fill the car, and Bill resisted the urge to reach out to her, put his arm round her shoulders, and comfort her. He was convinced Diane was deluding herself but wasn’t sure how to handle it. All he knew was, he couldn’t let her continue in this fantasy about Jade’s return.
    ‘Emma could be right, you know. Some people do have a sick sense of humour.’
    Diane hunched further down in the seat. ‘You don’t believe me either, but it’s from Jade. I know it is.’
    She kneaded the material of her skirt between her fingers, twisting and pulling at it, until Bill was sure it would tear. She turned her head and looked at him, her pale blue eyes misty with tears. ‘Besides, there was something else in the envelope.’
    She dug her hand into her pocket, bringing out a bead – a green jade bead – which she pressed into his hand. ‘That’s from Jade’s necklace, I gave it to her on her eleventh birthday, and she always wore it. She was wearing it when she left that day.’
    Bill stared at the bead. His stomach churned and he wanted to be sick.
    ‘I’ve always known she wasn’t dead and now, you see, this is proof she can’t be.’
    Bill fought to control his nausea, and said the first thing that came into his head. ‘But wouldn’t she have come home if she was alive?’
    Tears trembled on her eyelashes and she stared at her hands. ‘Maybe she lost her memory or something.’
    ‘I think, somehow, a thirteen year old girl who had lost her memory would have come to our attention.’ Her despair touched something in Bill and his voice was gentle.
    Tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘You read about these men who keep girls locked up in cellars and things. But I try not to think about that. All I know is something must have stopped her from coming home.’
    ‘But if she’s able to send you a card, surely she can’t be imprisoned in a cellar.’
    ‘I don’t know. Maybe she’s with her father. He wouldn’t want her to come home.’
    ‘What makes you think that?’
    ‘He always favoured her,’ she mumbled.
    Something in her tone troubled Bill. ‘Why was that?’
    She looked up and met his eyes with a glare.
    ‘He just did.’
    Bill was silent, mulling over the implications of what she had said, and what was left unsaid.
    ‘Where can I find him?’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Her father.’
    ‘I don’t know. He dropped off the face of the earth when he left.’ She rubbed her hands over the rough fabric of her skirt. ‘Maybe the Witch of the North would know.’
    ‘Witch of the North?’
    She twisted her hands and rubbed them even more fiercely, before she answered in a voice that dripped hate. ‘His mother – the witch woman – she’ll know.’
    Sitting up, her body tensed and her fingers hooked into claws. She no longer seemed to be the vulnerable woman who had sat beside him a moment ago. Bill looked at her with fresh eyes and couldn’t help wondering if she was capable of murder.
    Diane lapsed into an awkward silence, the tension left her body and she was vulnerable again, awash with despair as she rubbed and kneaded her hands. Bill felt ashamed of his doubts; he didn’t think this woman capable of murder. He wanted to put his arm round her, take her red hands into his, and comfort her. He wanted to tell her he would find Jade, but knew that would be a mistake. Too much time had elapsed since Jade’s disappearance. It would be a miracle if she were still alive. And yet, Diane believed it. The best he could do for her would be to check it out.
    ‘D’you know where his mother